


Monster

by impalaloompa



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mild Sexual Content, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalaloompa/pseuds/impalaloompa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Control<br/>Peter and Wade deal with the aftermath of the events from Control and Peter isn't sure he will ever be able to make it up to Wade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday present for my friend Sydney

Peter couldn’t sleep. The images flashing in his head wouldn’t let him. He sat there on his borrowed bed, knees tucked under his chin, willing the floor to swallow him whole. Guilt and shame clawed at his gut and silent tears streamed down his cheeks.  
The weight of what he did, the understanding of what it meant threatened to drown him. He didn’t want to believe that it had happened, but the screams and the fearful pleading still rang in his mind, an echo of the horror he had caused. He was supposed to be Spider-Man. Helping those in need. A hero.  
Heroes don’t rape people, his brain snarled at him.  
Peter let out a sob and buried his face in his knees. How had everything gone so wrong? He had been in control, then he hadn’t. He had lost himself in a primal rage and took it out on the one person who had been trying to help him.  
He felt bile rising in his throat as he thought back to last night when Captain America had found Wade after. How stern and serious the soldier was, how terrified Deadpool was. How Deadpool had flinched when Peter only spoke. And yet, Wade had kissed him, hugged him, comforted him. Peter couldn’t fathom it. It had suddenly dawned on Peter how much the merc actually cared for him. It made Peter sick to the stomach to think that Wade might even forgive him. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. He didn’t deserve to be hugged or kissed or anything by the mercenary. He deserved to die. Painfully. In a dark hole.  
That was the thought that crowded Peter’s mind as he threw himself from his bed and punched the wall. His fist tore clean through the plaster. He knew Stark would be pissed but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He stared at the hole for a moment, muscles tense, his whole body shaking. Then he let out a strangled sigh and the tension left him, shoulders slumping in defeat.  
He left his room and crept through the quiet halls of the Avengers Tower. It was an eerie silence, as if the very walls themselves were judging him as he went by.  
Peter had no particular destination in mind. He just needed to be on the move.  
His mind was foggy with thoughts and images and self-hatred. He stopped to shake his head, trying to clear it of the painful cobwebs. When he looked up, he found himself in the doorway to the Avengers living space.  
The moonlight streaming in through the windows gave the room a gentle glow. Peter turned to leave but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.  
There, still lying on the couch, was Deadpool.  
Peter’s breath hitched in his chest. He was rooted to the spot, nails digging painfully into his palms.  
Leave. Go, right now, he ordered himself but his feet began moving towards the sleeping mercenary.  
He froze about a meter from the couch when he could see the mercenary properly.  
Wade was drenched in a cold sweat. His maskless face had a grim expression set to it. The scars on his exposed skin seemed irritated, as if the merc had been rubbing at them. Wade was shaking and twitching and mumbling under his breath.  
Peter recoiled when he could make out a few words.  
“N-no... P-please… stop… P-Peter,” Deadpool’s face twisted and his fingers dug into the fabric of the blue couch.  
There were tears leaking from Wade’s screwed shut eyes.  
Peter wrapped his arms around himself, his own eyes threatening to spill tears of their own.  
He couldn’t let the mercenary suffer his dream any longer. But is waking up to this reality any better? a cruel voice taunted Peter.  
“Wade?” Peter choked. He stretched out a trembling hand and touched Deadpool’s arm.  
Wade’s watery brown eyes flew open and he flinched under the touch.  
Peter snached his hand back quickly and sank slowly to his knees as the mercenary’s ragged breath matched his own.  
The fear and pain in Wade’s eyes seemed to be fading as he realised where he was. He pushed himself up slightly, wiping his glistening forehead with the back of a gloved hand.  
Peter couldn’t look at him. He just stared at the ground, trying to ignore the urge to run away.  
Wade’s expression softened slightly when he noticed Peter, kneeling before him wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. If the situation had been different, he might have made a pass, a joke.  
The mercenary put a tentative hand on the young hero’s shoulder.  
Peter’s head shot up and he glared at Wade. He instantly regretted the move when Wade’s hand retreated and that fearful glaze was back in his eyes.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… It’s just that… You shouldn’t want to-to touch me,” Peter’s voice broke.  
Wade’s mouth set in a hard line. Oh what Peter wouldn’t give to find out what Wade was thinking.  
Peter sniffed and rose to his feet. Deadpool seemed to shrink back into the couch. He kept casting anxious glances at the door as if trying to work out if he could reach it before Peter touched him again.  
Shame burned at Peter when he saw what he had reduced the cocky, jokey mercenary to. He quickly walked away from Wade and headed to the door.  
Deadpool watched his every move carefully, hands gripping onto the couch.  
Before Peter managed to escape, Wade spoke up.  
“Spidey?” the rawness of the merc’s voice, the desperation, bit at Peter’s heart, “Please don’t leave me alone. I-I don’t want to be alone.”  
His plea was almost child-like and Peter had to stop himself from rushing over to him.  
Peter shook his head slowly. The look on Deadpool’s face was like a punch in the gut.  
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t,” Peter mumbled and he rushed from the room, his blood pounding in his ears.  
He pressed himself against the wall in the hallway, forehead resting on the smooth surface. He tried to gain control of his erratic breathing, allowing his thoughts to rush around his head.  
Why? Why does Wade keep doing that? Trying to comfort me or be close to me? He is so clearly terrified of me. I hurt him, in more than one way but he keeps reaching out to me. He should hate me, be disgusted with me. Maybe he does. Maybe he is. I hate me. I’m disgusted with me. I can’t ever hurt him again. But my very presence distresses him. How can I ever make things right if I can barely look at him, if he can barely look at me?  
Peter grabbed fistfulls of his hair and pulled hard. The pain was distracting. He dug his nails into his scalp allowing the pain from his aching heart to be momentarily forgotten.  
He stood like that until the pressure made his fingers numb. The tension in his shoulders dissipated and he slumped to the floor.  
The last thing he heard before slipping into an uneasy sleep was the wracked sobs and heavy crying coming from the living space. 

***  
The little conference room Captain America had led them into was snug, well lit, with an oval chestnut table in the centre and a large bay window giving a stunning view of the city.  
Peter sank down into one of the expensive leather chairs, nursing a glass of water. He kept his eyes low as Steve led Wade into the room and motioned for him to sit down.  
The mercenary settled at the table opposite Peter, arms resting on the cool wood, expression unreadable under his red and black mask. He looked strange without his weapons and pouches, but Cap had insisted that they be left by the door as if he didn't quite trust Deadpool’s self-control.  
There were so many things Peter was bursting to say but he didn't know where to start so he remained quiet, watching Steve as he paced by the window.  
Cap wrung his hands a couple of times, opened and closed his mouth, trying to work out how to approach this. He knew this conversation needed to be had, but he didn’t want to push in the wrong way in fear of Peter withdrawing or Wade lashing out.  
The sad, disappointed look in Captain America’s eyes kept fueling the self-hatred Peter was trying to ignore. He glanced at Deadpool who had his gaze firmly fixed on his fidgeting fingers.  
Finally Steve sat at the table, leaving a chair between himself and Wade, and two between himself and Peter, which Peter tried to pretend didn’t hurt, then cleared his throat.  
“Look,” he said, “This is going to be hard. For both of you. I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through right now. I can’t pretend to know what happened between you both, but let’s start with why,” he looked sternly at Peter, “Why did all of this happen?”  
Peter swallowed. Now was his time to explain everything, now was his time to admit he had needed help but had made a huge mistake, now was the time where he could show how sorry he was. But words didn’t want to come.  
He took a sip of his water and forced himself to make noise.  
“Hrmph… I…,” he swallowed again, “It… Life as-as Spider-Man was starting to… to get to me.”  
The pain in his chest was trying to choke him but he locked eyes with Cap, drawing strength from his encouraging nod and continued.  
“It was all becoming too much. I-I couldn’t cope with… with anything. I was losing control. I...Then I came across Wade.”  
At the mention of his name, Wade looked up. His white lensed eyes seemed to blaze with emotion. Peter almost let out a sob.  
“Being with Wade,” Peter stared at his water, “It felt good. It… I had control over what happened between us. I could… channel everything into him and-and it was working. I was starting to get my life back together.”  
“You used him,” Steve said flatly.  
“I know,” Peter’s answer was almost a whisper.  
He hung his head, trying to ignore the way Wade clawed at his own hands.  
“What changed, Peter?,” Cap implored, “Why did you rape him?”  
That word, coming from one of his closest friends, rose bile in Peter’s throat. The accusation, the horror, all crushing Peter under it’s truth. It didn’t help that Wade had winced when the word was used.  
Rape. That’s what I did, Peter blinked tears away.  
“I was... I was so… angry. With you, and the other Avengers. I… I found Wade and I thought it was going to be ok. I thought that I could... could use him… like I always did, but then he… he knew my name. My identity. And I… I snapped,” he looked up at Deadpool again as tears rolled down his cheeks. Wade’s hands had clenched and he was hanging onto every word Peter said.  
“I wanted to stop,” Peter wailed, “Wade, I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
Tears streamed down his face and he reached out to hold Wade’s hand but as soon he made contact, Wade jerked away leaving Peter to grab at air.  
Peter buried his head in his hands and wept. His shame, his guilt, his disgust at himself, all overwhelming him.  
Conflict raged inside Wade. More than anything he wanted to hug Peter, to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be ok. But everytime he touched the young hero, the memory, the fear, the pain jolted through him. It wasn’t so bad if he instigated the contact but he knew that if he went over to Peter, Peter would touch his arm or his face and Wade wouldn’t be able to stop him and thats what caused him to flinch or jerk away.  
The pain, the hurt biting in his chest was more than he could bare. More than anything he wanted to feel the reassuring comfort of his gun in his hand as he brought it to his temple and blew his brains out. Death would be an escape, if only for a little while. The thought of what the young hero he admired so much had done to him swirled in his mind, threatening to pull him into a dark place he knew there was no return from. The only thing he was holding on to was that tugging feeling beating through his veins that reminded him that he cared for Peter.  
Frustration burned through him. He knew that Peter didn’t understand why he still cared for him. He knew that Cap didn’t understand it either. The soldier was watching him with a curious expression. But, what neither Spidey nor Cap could grasp was that, even though the emotional trauma was tearing him apart, he, Wade Wilson, had been through so much worse than rape.  
He tried not to dwell on the memories threatening to push into his mind and instead focused on Peter. The young hero had stopped crying but his head was still down, hands gripping his glass of water so hard that Wade thought it might smash under the pressure.  
Just looking at Spidey sent a swell of optimism through his chest. Wade could get through this, they both could. Together. He cared for Peter more than he had ever cared for anyone, and he knew, he knew, that Peter felt something for him too. This incident between them was just an obstacle they could overcome and emerge better people after.  
Don’t delude yourself Wade, a cruel voice whispered in his ear, You can have all the fantasies you want about being with Peter but what he did to you? It was bad. You may think you’ll be able to bounce back but every time you look at Peter you will be reminded of how he hurt you. You won’t ever get over this, never get passed it and neither will Peter. This will eat at him, rot his insides until-  
“NO!” Wade shouted out loud springing to his feet.  
Peter jumped about a foot in the air, spilling his water all over his t-shirt. Steve had jumped up too, arms outstretched so that he could stop Wade if he decided to live up to his unpredictable reputation.  
“Wade?” Steve’s tone was etched with warning.  
Deadpool stared at Peter’s startled face. Guilt gnawed at him. Scaring Peter away was the last thing he wanted to do.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I wasn’t-I just-sorry.” He flumped down into his chair again, head in his hands, trying to push the voice away.  
Captain America put a hand on his shoulder, “Is there something you would like to say to Peter?” The reassuring squeeze gave Wade the courage to lift his head.  
Steve’s searching gaze was worried, as if he thought Deadpool might not be able to be civil to Peter after all.  
Wade looked at Peter again, playing with the hem of his mask.  
The way Peter was regarding him sent chills through his heart. No, he wailed, Please Peter, don’t look at me like that. That’s a look I expect from the public, from Wolverine, from the Avengers, please, not from you.  
The voice in Wade’s head growled at him and he tried to ignore the comment it made about thats how people look at monsters, how Peter now looks at himself.  
“Look,” Wade began, trying to keep his voice steady. He let his masked gaze wander over Peter, admiring his soft skin, his deep eyes, his disheveled brown hair, the way his now wet t-shirt clung to his abs. God he is perfect, Wade mused cynically.  
“Peter, I don’t hate you for what you did to me. I’m not mad at you. I know you don’t understand why. Just…Fuck” Wade sighed, wishing he could simply make Peter realise what he was trying to say.  
He pulled at the spandex covering his arm and shook his head slightly.  
Captain America cleared his throat. He had resumed his pacing by the window, but sensed that this conversation wasn’t having the outcome he had hoped for and was now standing behind his chair looking from Spider-Man to Deadpool. He guessed that Peter and Wade had said all that they were ready to say for now.  
“Thank you,” he said, “For talking like this today. I know all of this is… not easy but, I hope that you both got something out of this. Can I suggest that you both stay in the Avengers Tower? At least for now so that we know you’re both going to be ok?”  
Peter nodded, Wade blinked slowly at him.  
“Ok, good,” Cap was trying and failing to hide his awkwardness. He needed to be sure that Wade wasn’t going to go off on a psychotic murder spree to channel his pain. He needed to be sure that Peter’s mental state wasn’t going to endanger himself or others around him. He needed to be sure that whatever had happened between Peter and Wade never happened again.

***  
The fresh air felt so good on Peter’s skin. He was perched at the top of the Avengers Tower, the wind raking it’s fingers through his hair, cooling his face, clearing his head.  
He took a deep lungful of air and gazed out across the sun dappled city. It’s familiar noises and smells rose all around him, comforting him.  
Peter had needed to escape the Tower for a little while. He had only been staying there for a few days but he couldn’t stand the way the Avengers looked at him with disappointment, or avoided him all together. It was bad enough that he hated himself, that he knew he was a terrible person. He didn’t need the confirmation from his friends.  
He missed sharing a joke with Barton as they passed in the hall. He missed the disapproving look Romanov would give him when he crawled along the ceiling instead of walking ‘like a goddamn normal person’. He missed the banter with Stark as the billionaire showed off a new gadget. But most of all, he missed Deadpool.  
He had never been friends with the merc. Wade was annoying, immature, a murderer, but whenever they had teamed up, Peter had always had a laugh. He had always enjoyed the other’s company. But, Peter especially missed his touch, his caress, his kiss. Wade had been so good to him. He had been gentle, understanding, even loving. And Peter had thrown it all in his face.  
Peter hadn’t actually spoken to Wade properly since the meeting in the conference room. Just a quick exchange of hello before the merc was being whisked off by Captain America or Peter was being given a job to do.  
Peter had the feeling that the Avengers were trying to keep them apart, to prevent them from getting too close or to prevent him from hurting Wade again. They didn’t trust him around Wade and that hurt.  
But in his solitude, Peter had time to think. Mostly about what Wade had said in the conference room. Wade wasn’t angry. Wade didn’t hate him. And Peter believed him. A spark of hope had began to form in his chest. If Wade could forgive him, then, maybe, he could eventually forgive himself too.  
It was going to be hard. Harder than anything he had ever faced before. But he knew that Wade wanted to help him. He knew that with Wade’s help, he could become the Spider-Man he was supposed to be, not this sad, pathetic creature he was now.  
A warm feeling tingled through Peter making his lips twitch with a smile.  
Peter slid from his perch and suctioned onto the dark glass of the Avenger’s tower with a soft thud. He crawled down the glass, enjoying the cool, smooth surface under his hands and bare feet. The wind threatened to blow him off, tearing under his stomach and pulling at his sweat pants. He pressed himself flat against the glass, reducing the wind’s hold, and scuttled down the Tower.  
He had climbed Avengers Tower enough times to know which windows he needed to avoid.  
Peter zig-zagged his way down and down until he reached his destination. He flipped himself round so that he wasn’t looking into the room upside down and peered through the glass.  
Wade was sitting on a bed, clad head to foot in his red and black spandex, chin resting on his knees, staring at his katanas and guns splayed out on the bed before him.  
Deadpool looked so out of place in the pale, neatly decorated room. His costume stood out against the white and cream decor, like blood on snow.  
The analogy made Peter wince, and he almost clambered back up the building before Wade spotted him, but he knew that running away from this wasn’t the answer. He had to face Wade properly. He had to face what he did, on his own terms, and not with Cap breathing down his neck expectantly.  
Peter knocked on the window. Wade looked up in surprise. Feeling a little foolish, Peter waved shyly at him.  
The mercenary got up and reached to open the window. Peter swore he could see a slight smirk under Wade’s mask.  
Peter pushed as Wade pulled and together they managed to wedge the window open enough for Peter to slip into the room.  
The sudden warmth hugged at Peter, catching his breath in his chest. He heard the click of the window as Wade shut it and he watched the mercenary sink down onto his bed again.  
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wade’s tone was light, his body was relaxed, a small smile crinkled the fabric around his eyes, though there was still an air of caution oozing from the merc.  
Peter’s heart pounded with the realisation that Wade was happy to see him, that Wade had missed him too.  
“I can never apologise enough for what I did to you,” Peter blurted. He was kicking himself because he did not want to just launch into this. He had wanted to ease into it, test the waters and see where he and Wade stood before approaching it again. The sudden tensing of Wade’s shoulders told him that his outburst was exactly the wrong thing.  
But Peter had started now and he couldn’t shut himself up.  
“It was wrong and I hurt you and I’m so sorry. I hate myself. I wish I could take it all back. All of it. I’m supposed to be Spider-Man. I’m supposed to protect people, but I didn’t protect you. I have no excuse for what I did. I used you to make myself feel better and-” Peter was cut off by the sudden pressure of Wade’s hand on his shoulder, the gentle loving look of his white lensed eyes, the reassuring smile stretching his mask.  
Confusion and a strange fear filled Peter and he shrieked, smacking Wade’s had away.  
“WHY?” he shouted, “WHY DO YOU DO THAT? AFTER WHAT I DID TO YOU? AFTER I RAPED YOU? WHY DO YOU STILL WANT TO BE CLOSE TO ME?”  
Wade had fallen over in shock and he was gaping at Peter wide eyed.  
Peter was shaking with anger and still yelling as Deadpool rose to his feet. He was screaming about how Wade deserved better, how he was a monster and Wade should get away from him, that them being there for each other was never going to work.  
Wade smacked Peter. Hard.  
Peter saw stars. He fell into a stunned silence, cheek burning where the merc’s hand had made contact.  
“You. Just. Don’t. Get. It. Do. You?” Wade seethed, he was shaking, but Peter couldn’t tell if it was with rage or with something different.  
Wade ripped his mask off and let it fall to the floor. His brown eyes were aflame with frustration.  
“Look at me Peter,” he said.  
Peter was staring at the floor.  
“LOOK AT ME,” Wade roared. Peter jumped, his eyes snapping up to meet Wade’s. The expression on the mercenary’s scarred face was hard.  
“You don’t think you deserve me? Do you remember who I am? What I do? I’m the monster, not you. I’ve teamed up with you several times and I know what you are. You are so fucking good Peter. You are everything I want to be. You’ve just fallen. I know what that’s like, but I never had anyone to help me get back up again. I kept falling Peter. But you. You've got your friends, your family. You’ve got me too. I want to help you,” Wade paused for breath. He held Peter’s hand’s in his own and rubbed soothing circles into the soft skin. He moved closer to Peter so that their foreheads touched and let out a slow breath.  
“I thought that I loved Spider-Man, but Spidey is just an idea that you represent. I was so confused by… what you did to me. It hurts and I know I should hate you, but I dont. Peter,” Wade cupped Peter’s cheek. His eyes were soft, a small smile played at his chapped lips. Peter leaned into the warm touch.  
“I’m- I’m trying to say- fuck- say that… I-” Wade’s smile faltered when Peter pushed his hand away.  
“Please. Please dont. Dont say it,” Peter whispered. He still clung onto Deadpool’s hand.  
“Because if you say it, it will make what I did worse. Because I’ll have to admit that I care about you too, and what I did to you…,” Peter started to sob.  
He was gazing into Wade’s soft brown eyes as tears spilled down his cheeks, splashing onto his t-shirt.  
Wade wrapped his strong arms around Peter and buried his face in the crook of Peter’s neck. Peter gasped at the sudden contact but he held Wade tight, closing his eyes and resting his head on the merc’s shoulder.  
Wade had started crying, but this was different to any of the times Peter had seen or heard Wade cry before. It wasn’t fearful or desperate, it wasn’t full of anguish or anger or despair. It was just pure emotion, rolling out of him in huge wracked sobs. Everything he had struggled to contain, every fear, every doubt, every feeling.  
The pair sank to the floor. Peter plonked onto his bottom, cradling Wade in his arms.  
The merc had curled his fingers into Peter’s t-shirt, head now resting on the young hero’s chest.  
Peter stroked Wade’s marred skin gently, brushing lightly over the sores on his head, trying to memorise every scar. Wade whimpered at the sensual touch and he pushed himself up so that he could look into Peter’s eyes.  
Wade took Peter’s chin and pressed his chapped lips to Peter’s soft, supple ones.  
“I love you Baby Boy,” Wade mumbled into the kiss.  
Peter pulled back and brushed a thumb over Wade’s tear streaked cheek. Dismay fluttered in his stomach as the merc winced at the contact, but Wade held onto Peter’s hand before he could pull it away and he pressed his face into the warm touch, determination sparkling in his eyes.  
Peter just looked at him, drinking in his eyes, his skin, his smell. He smiled, a large ear to ear smile and he leant in to kiss Wade again. He felt the merc’s wince again but Wade pushed into the kiss, swiping his tongue against Peter’s lips. Peter hooked his arms around Wade’s neck and opened his mouth to allow Wade access.  
Deadpool dipped his tongue into Peter’s mouth and Peter moaned.  
Wade broke the kiss, panting slightly. He gazed into Peter’s large doey eyes.  
“We’re going to be okay you know,” he breathed, “I can help you with your Spidey patrols and stuff and-and you can teach me how to be a hero.”  
The child-like innocence in Wade’s expression made Peter chuckle.  
“Sure,” he smiled, “I’d like that.”  
Wade seemed to visibly relax in his arms and he reached up tentatively to pinch Peter’s cheek.  
“Sorry about… you know. Hitting you,” Wade mumbled.  
“I’m sorry too. For everything,” Peter sighed heavily.  
Wade rested his head on Peter’s chest again.  
“I know,” he hummed.

***  
The shock on the Avengers’ faces made Peter’s heart skip a beat.  
He and Wade had just walked into the living space holding hands. Fingers twined together, bodies pressed close.  
Peter wanted to shrink away from them but Wade’s determined expression carried them forwards.  
Wade had put his mask back on and it seemed to help with the whole intimidation vibe he was trying to give off.  
“What...What?” Stark stammered.  
He and the other Avengers were just staring at them. Peter could see Wade’s convictions falter in the way his shoulders suddenly tensed with nerves.  
It was Captain America who took control of the situation.  
“What are you doing?” his expression was careful, his voice steady but the concern in his eyes was unmissable, “Is this a good idea?”  
“Probably not,” Wade piped up, pleased with himself for keeping his voice together, “But we’re going to give it a try.”  
“But-but he raped you!” Tony blurted.  
Wade grimaced. Peter could feel the merc’s hand starting to slide from his so he quickly tightened his grip and gave it a slight squeeze.  
“I know,” Wade managed to say, avoiding Peter’s gaze, “But he need’s my help.”  
The expressions on the Avengers’ faces changed from confusion and disgust to disbelief in the blink of an eye. Wade was getting angry and Peter willed him not to say or do anything he would regret.  
“Well shit, I don’t see any of you guys rushing to help him! and you call yourself heroes!” too late.  
The atmosphere in the room became so tense, Peter was sure he could have cut it with a knife. Captain America had rounded his shoulders, looking bigger and stronger than ever. Banner had paled and was muttering something under his breath. Black Widow had clenched her fists. Hawk-Eye’s hand flexed by his bow. Every single Avenger seemed to be preparing for a beat down. One Peter knew Wade would lose.  
“That’s rich, coming from the likes of you,” Stark grumbled.  
Peter could almost see Wade mentally punch Tony. He held onto the mercenary for dear life.  
“I don’t care what you guys think of me,” Peter lied, his voice higher than he had intended it to be, “I know what I did was wrong. So very very wrong. And I can never be sorry enough. But…” he looked up at Wade who’s soft smile was visible under his mask, “I’m going to try and make it right.”  
He tugged at Wade’s hand and the merc followed him out of the room. Deadpool slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and said in a husky tone, “I’m proud of you web head.” Peter leaned into Wade as the pair left Avengers Tower. 

***  
The days had turned into weeks and Peter and Wade were curled up in Peter’s bed in Peter’s apartment after a long grueling patrol.  
Peter was on speaking terms with some of the Avengers but most of them still couldn’t look at him. Their perception of him had changed forever and there was nothing he could do to fix it. Every time they looked at Wade, every time Peter looked at Wade, the reality of what had happened stuck in their minds. Deadpool was a walking reminder of the horror Peter had caused and the Avengers couldn’t get passed it.  
Wade on the other hand was doing well, and Peter couldn’t be prouder of him. He still flinched when he wasn’t expecting Peter’s touch. He still woke up in the middle of the night shaking and drenched with sweat. But Peter always made sure he was there to comfort him whenever he could.  
In the little time that they had been together, Wade had helped Peter in more ways than he could name. His job as Spider-Man was ten times easier with the skilled mercenary on his side. Even though Wade could get carried away and accidentally behead someone, Peter was working with him and helping him to control himself. Training together provided Peter with a new distraction and he could forget about his troubles with Jameson and college for a while. Peter was also still haunted by what he had done to Wade and woke up from his own fair share of nightmares but, the merc was always reassuring him, telling him that he was okay. And he was okay. For the first time in a long time, Peter was okay.  
Wade had moved into Peter’s apartment about a week ago, a move which had been fraught with doubt and emotions running high, but now it had been settled, having the merc around gave Peter a happy, giddy feeling.  
Peter gazed at Wade as they lay together under the blanket. Their legs were tangled together, Wade’s rough skin brushing against Peter’s. The mercenary was so relaxed, so peaceful, so happy. He smiled when Peter nibbled at his neck and plucked at the t-shirt covering his marred chest.  
“Wade?” Peter perched himself on an elbow so that he could see Wade’s eyes.  
“Yes Baby Boy?” Wade hummed, tracing his thumb over Peter’s jawline.  
Peter took a deep breath. He had been wanting to say this for a long time, he just wanted Wade to know that he meant it. Wade became worried when Peter’s silence drew on. He tried to sit up but Peter pushed him back down gently.  
“It’s ok,” he smiled, “I just wanted to say that… I love you Wade.”  
The biggest cheesiest grin spread across Wade’s face. His eyes sparkled. A tear escaped down his left cheek.  
“I love you too,” he whispered.  
Peter pecked him gently on the cheek, kissing away his tear. Wade laughed when Peter nibbled and licked down his neck and buried his nose in Wade’s shoulder. It was a good sound. It vibrated through Peter and made the muscles tense in his groin.  
He slid a hand up Wade’s t-shirt and rested it on the bare skin above Wade’s heart. Wade watched him with interest as his other hand glided up his thigh and played with the leg of his boxers.  
Wade suddenly realised what Peter wanted and he tensed under Peter’s feather light touches. Peter tried not to let the disappointment show on his face as he brought his hand back up to lay it on Wade’s chest with his other hand.  
“Sorry,” he muttered, ready to roll away from Wade but two strong hands held him fast, an earnest gaze searching his.  
“Fuck. No,” Wade said, “I’m sorry. I want to. I really do. It’s just that… that… I’m scared.” His voice was so shy and timid it almost made Peter recoil. This would be their first time since Peter had raped him, but this wouldn’t be mindless fucking, this would be making love, and Peter needed Wade to understand that.  
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Peter cupped Wade’s cheek, “I will never hurt you again. But, if you’re not ready… We can wait.”  
Something twisted in Wade’s stomach. The longing in Peter’s eyes, the clenching in his own groin, made him growl lustfully.  
Peter laughed with surprise as Wade flipped them over so that he was on top, using his weight to press Peter into the bed.  
“Okay,” Wade breathed, “but… but slowly. Deal?”  
Peter nodded and Wade kissed him. It was long and deep and it conveyed every emotion between them. Wade kissed the corner of his mouth, his neck, his shoulders. Peter whimpered and moaned with every nibble.  
Wade’s hands started on his chest, then slipped down onto his thighs and he slowly rubbed his crotch against Peter’s. The friction felt so good and a needy groan escaped from Wade’s lips.  
“Shit, fuck, Peter,” Wade whined as Peter sucked and licked at his neck.  
Peter’s eyes were hooded with arousal. He was rubbing soothing circles into Wade’s shoulders.  
Wade lifted Peter’s t-shirt so that he could kiss just below his belly button and he trailed kisses down to the elastic of Peter’s boxers.  
Wade slowly slid his hand down under the fabric and palmed Peter’s already hard cock. When Peter bucked at the touch Wade froze. A strange look glazed his eyes and his breathing was ragged.  
“I can do this I can do this I can do this,” he muttered to himself.  
“Wade,” Peter tried to get his attention but the merc just squeezed his eyes shut. He began to shake and tears started streaming down his cheeks.  
“Wade,” Peter’s tone was more urgent now. He managed to sit up and he pulled Deadpool into a tight hug.  
Wade sobbed into Peter’s shoulder, his body limp as Peter pressed himself against him.  
“It’s ok. It’s ok,” Peter soothed, kissing the top of Wade’s head.  
“I’m sorry,” Wade choked between hitched breaths.  
“It’s ok. It’s not your fault,” Peter was trying to hold back his own tears. Wade needed him to be strong right now and he would not let his mistake drag them both down. Not tonight.  
“We can try again another time. It doesn't matter,” Peter shushed him, ignoring the guilt clawing at his heart.  
He rocked Wade back and forth until the mercenary’s crying had stopped and small tremors ran through his body.  
“I’m sorry Wade, I’m so sorry,” Peter whispered.  
Wade’s hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze.  
“We’re going to be okay. Remember?” Peter stroked the back of Wade’s hand, “We’re going to be okay.”  
Wade nodded into Peter’s shoulder.  
“I love you Baby Boy,” Wade whimpered, almost sounding as if he was trying to reassure himself.  
“I love you too Wade. More than you know.”


End file.
